


Salvation

by sammys_grl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean's Deal, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-29 19:56:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sammys_grl/pseuds/sammys_grl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The boys get some help from an unusual source to save Dean from the depths of Hell. </p>
            </blockquote>





	Salvation

Dean wasn’t quite sure what the hell had happened.  One minute the crossroads demon was sucking his soul out and the next he was in some type of chamber suspended in the air.  The devil in the blue dress swearing up and down that the thing hovering there with him had no right to interfere and then she was gone.  With a wave of it’s hand, just gone.  Oddly enough, he didn’t think he needed to fear this thing, at least not yet. He simply stared at the figure before him and waited. 

“Dean Winchester, it was brought to my attention that there is a deal for your soul.  A deal you freely made, but with very complex motives.  I have watched you and your brother for months since you are hunters of sorts and I am your patron saint.  My name is Hubert.”

“My patron saint?” the inflection in Dean’s voice gave away his skepticism. 

“Well, not you as an individual human, but of hunters.  Generally, I stick to the bow and arrow version of your trade.  In fact, had the demon not been bragging about her conquest, I never would have heard of the deal you made.  We need to talk before I decide what, if anything, to do about it.” 

“Do…you can do something?  Where the hell have you been for the past fucking year, while Sam suffered through this?!” 

Saint Hubert smiled at the fact that Dean only referred to Sam’s suffering, but still he didn’t like the tone of voice being used. “Do not yell at me! After all, you made the deal; did you not know he would suffer because of it?  You brought him back because you needed him to be with you.  You changed the rules that night.  He was dead; you didn’t want to be without him so you made the deal.  The consequences of which you brought about!” 

“No, NO!  Sam was never supposed to know about the deal.  I know I was stupid to think I could pull that one off, but it seemed to be a plan at the time.  Sam deserved to live, to have the life he always dreamed of, he deserved all of it.  Every damn second of happiness he can get he deserves.  I made the deal to give him that.  I would trade my life any day, any time, for him to be happy.  Someday he will be. Please, just please don’t let him suffer anymore because of this.  Make him forget me, something, just let him find happiness.” 

“What about your own suffering?  You are going to Hell; does that not matter to you?” 

Dean thought about that for a moment and then spoke. “Of course it matters, but I’ll do it no quarter asked or given, I’ll do it” 

“Interesting. The two of you are not like most human beings, not as wrapped up in yourselves.  I need to go now.  You must stay here, and please don’t try to get out of the chamber; you’ll only waste your time.  You can’t get out and nothing can get in to harm you.  You are safe.” 

“Go?  What about Sam?  Where the hell are you going?”  Dean was still yelling when suddenly he was alone.

  
********************************** 

This place was a three day drive from the crossroads, he had known exactly how far.  He always knew how far they were from that evil place.  The place where trades of souls and lives were made as if one had more value than the other.  He knew the days were too short now, knew that nothing was going to break this deal not even his own death; he’d offered that months ago to no avail.  He also knew that Dean, being Dean, was taking him far enough away so that in his despair he wouldn’t be able to give the demon anymore than the contract stated.  Dean’s life was the only one she was getting.  Sam’s life, as it were, would go on.  Sam was as brave as he could be, kept as much of the emotions he was being suffocated by tightly wrapped inside.  He did that for Dean, did it because Dean was suffering too. They hadn’t really talked, they simply fell asleep with Sam cradled in the only spot that had ever been safe and home for him, and he had woken to an empty room, to the barren wreckage that his life was now going to be.  

He’d had a furious moment when he was desperate to find him, and had grabbed everything and yanked open the door, only to see the Impala sitting there in the morning sun, shining like it had no right to.  Parked next to it was Bobby’s truck, with the closest thing he had left of a family watching.  Not approaching, just watching.  He didn’t even acknowledge him, just turned and walked back inside.  Bobby wouldn’t intrude on this, but he would be there. 

Bobby apparently had the room key, since twice a day he would quietly enter, leave food, then leave.  He knew he should at least acknowledge what was being done for him, make some attempt to eat, but still no.  The old food was simply replaced with new. Occasionally, Bobby would whisper his name and it actually made him cringe, just the simple sound of a voice in this space was overwhelming, was more than he could bear.  His only reply a whispered “No” and then he’d be alone again. 

Currently, Sam was sitting in the darkened room, vaguely trying to figure out how he could be so numb yet feel this pain in every fiber of his being.  He was oblivious to everything, but the soul deep loss.  He knew Dean was gone, logically he had to be, no way out and he understood that, but emotionally, no he didn’t.  Not now, not ever was he going to understand that.  He hadn’t really slept nor eaten, but he just didn’t care.  He mostly sat on the floor, pushed into the too small corner and clutched the closest thing to his brother that he still had.  

Dean’s jacket.  

When that got too painful, he stared at the walls and when he could no longer do that he just cried until he supposed he collapsed.  When he would again open his eyes, he started the process over.  

Part of him loathed Dean for leaving him to fulfill his deal, but in his rare moments of lucidity he understood and loved him for it.   Loved how he tried to take care of him to the end.  Except that it hadn’t taken care of him, it hadn’t.  All of Dean’s things were neatly packed, like he didn’t want Sam to have to bother with them when he moved on from here.  One more thing he could do for Sam.  Nothing about Dean had ever been a bother, and no, he was never moving on from here, at least not completely.  There are some things in life that you just never move away from.  The loss was too great for that.  He would eventually pick up the pieces, but only because to do anything would disgrace what Dean had done.  He would move on from here only for Dean, not for himself. He was trying to get himself together, he really was.  It was just too hard right now.  So he didn’t. 

He had moments when he knew he was mourning, but it just wasn’t his personal loss that was being grieved for, it was so much more than that.  It was Dean’s loss, and Jess’s, and his parents, all lost their own chances at life and happiness because of this war.  The two decades of sacrifice made were being mourned as well.   

Sometime on that third night Sam was starting to feel he was being watched.  He felt he wasn’t alone at times, felt something not quiet there.  

When he heard a voice ask “What do you need.” it didn’t alarm him as it would most people.  He had certainly seen and done enough in this life that he knew.  He instead just shook his head.  What he needed couldn’t be.  He needed Dean to be alive, living someplace…anyplace…just alive.  He needed Dean’s sacrifice to be not everything he had to give.  Again the voice asked “What do you need” 

“Dean,” was the broken reply. 

“Why” 

Sam again just shook his head.  Maybe this wasn’t the supernatural at work; maybe this is just what it was like when you lost your grip on reality. 

“Why?” was quietly repeated to him. 

Sam swallowed and decided he might as well talk, and maybe it would end.  “Because he deserved so much more that what he got.” 

“He deserved or you deserved?” 

Leaning his head back against the wall, trying not to break down again, he whispered, “He deserved the world.  He deserved happiness.  He just deserved.” 

“Thank you Samuel Winchester,” and then Sam knew he was alone again. 

************************************ 

Dean had no concept of time.  He could have been here for a minute or a week, he just couldn’t tell and part of him wondered what that meant.  This was all a bit much even for him.  He could deal with the concept and reality of evil.  It was the <i>good</i> part that he couldn’t get his head to wrap around.  He had seen evil every day since he was a kid; this was his first experience with the good side of the battle.  Suddenly, he had company again. 

He jumped up and was desperately asking, “Did you do something, help him, what…please is he okay?” before he even realized it. 

“No Dean, he is not okay.  You made a foolish decision and you are both paying the price.  You have damned your soul to Hell, and his to desolation.  That is why crossroads and demons, spells and incantations, are evil.  The consequences can never be known at the time of the utterance of the deed.” 

“Please, do whatever you need to do with me, call the demon back and I’ll go, just somehow, please fix this for him, for Sammy.” 

He stood, watching Dean’s expression as he spoke, as he had not quite figured these two out.  He knew they had personal motivations for what they did, of course they did.  Human needs and wants could not be denied.  Dean wanted Sam with him always, and Sam wanted to be with him.  But far and above that was something he rarely saw.   

Sam would force himself to live, to carry on despite the fact that each day would only serve to remind him of the sacrifices made.  He would do so because of his unyielding love.  He would never dishonor what his brother had done for him by doing anything less. And, this one before him, he would sacrifice his soul to save the one thing he held above all else.  In all his time as a Saint, and it had been centuries, he had only heard of these qualities a handful of times.  Other Saints had intervened in those cases, so he made his decision. 

“Only you can fix this, and I will give you that chance.”  He smiled as he watched the expressions play across his companion’s face, relief, disbelief, joy, and gratitude all there, just thinly veiled under the bravado of a Winchester. 

“Come, take my hand and we will go to him.” 

Dean did and instantly he was in the hotel room, focusing his eyes to find Sam who had made his way to a bed and had curled into himself to sleep, but not to rest. He moved, and then stopped to look at Saint Hubert.  “Go to him, he will know it’s you.  I think he would know without my help, but nonetheless, I will make it so.  I will also make it be that all those who know of this deal will recognize you for being true. They will not fear of you.” 

Dean hesitated a moment longer, “Thank you seems inadequate, but...” 

“It’s more than enough.” 

Dean smiled and moved silently to the bed.  Sam’s beautiful face was drawn tight, and he was so pale.  Gently, he sat down and brushed the hair from Sam’s eyes.  Beautiful eyes snapped open and locked on his. Silent and seeking, they never left him as he lay down. Instantly, they folded around each other with Dean holding Sam tight as he sobbed so openly with relief and Dean silently shedding his own tears of gratitude for this second chance.  Eventually, they slept, Sam tucked into Dean’s protective embrace and Dean being held tight in the grip of love.  

  
 

 

 


End file.
